Wacky Wednesday
by Lilwazzabug
Summary: A run-in with the spirit of a witch leaves the Winchester brothers quite beside themselves. Crack!Fic.
1. Chapter 1

**Notes**

_Ok, a lovely reader challenged me to write a funny story. I started this one back in April, but never really finished it, so I decided since someone requested a crack!fic, I'd pick it back up again. _

_This takes place some time after Jus In Bello, which isn't really important, but I just thought I'd let ya'll know. _

_I hope you get a few laughs and enjoy the ride: )_

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_"No, see married couples can get divorced. Me and him, we're more like uh...Siamese twins."_

_"It's conjoined twins!"_

_"See what I mean?"_

_oo-.-oo_

**Chapter 1**

A footstool hurtled towards Dean and smashed against the wall right where his head would have been had he not ducked. Sam whirled around at the sound and quickly triggered a round of rocksalt at the spirit where it stood across the room. The aim held true and deterred the spirit of the old woman for the time-being. Sam quickly gave himself a mental high five and turned to Dean where he stood, huddled, beside him.

"You alright?"

"I'm fine." Dean grumbled as he brushed some splintered wood off his shoulder and stood back up. "Getting just a little freakin' _pissed, _but fine."

It had seemed like a simple job. The spirit of an old hermit of a woman thought to be responsible for the disappearance of a few children and of practicing witch-craft back in the 1500's was causing mild terror for dumb teenagers looking for chills and thrills at an old, broken-down house. Sam had found the article and done the research, it was actually one of their easier cases compared to the other ones they'd tackling lately. It had said exactly where the woman was buried: by request, in the basement of her home. The only problem was the fact that the damn old woman's spirit wasn't too keen on two strange, though handsome, boys putting her to rest.

A large bureau slid across the floor and towards Sam and Dean. Not able to move out of the way in time, both brothers were knocked back and pinned against the wall behind them.

"Agh! Damnit!" Dean immediately braced his elbows against the wall and began trying to free both he and Sam. "Sam, we good?"

Sam groaned. "Great. Except there's a two-hundred pound dresser crushing me."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Cry me a river, the damn thing's crushing me too."

Dean strained and tried again to move back the dresser. After no success he slumped back and shot a look at Sam. "_I _wanted to go to the Grand Canyon."

Sam rolled his eyes and snorted. "Oh come on. Do we have to talk about this right now?" He bared his teeth and gave the bureau another shove.

Dean growled in his effort to help and then looked back at Sam. "Well, since we're both _stuck_ here, then yes. I think it's the perfect time to talk about it."

As if fueled by the desire to do anything but "talk about it" Sam put all possible strength into moving the dresser; still nothing.

"I'm serious, man. Times running out, and there's still some stuff I'd like to do befo-"

"No! Just...just help me move this thing, alright?"

"What? Don't I deserve to have a little fun?"

"Dean jus-"

"No, no I'm serious. You can't just keep pretending like the years not almost over, Sam."

Sam finally looked over at Dean for the first time, his eyes ablaze with anger-masked sadness. "Don't tell me what I can and can't do! You're not the one who's going to have to deal with this, Dean. _I _am! And how I do so is my own business."

"Well excuse me for wanting to spend my remaining time on earth with my brother. Somewhere safe and peaceful. Not pinned by a rotten-ass piece of furniture in a broken-down dump."

"Yeah? Well you should have thought of that before you went off making deals that end up with you burning in Hell and me staying here to rot by myself!"

"Ah 'guilt', that's right. Pile it on! It's not like I don't have enough of that as it is."

Both were so engrossed in their conversation that neither Sam nor Dean noticed the dead yet curious eyes watching them. The old woman's ghostly features crinkled into a smile as an idea came to her. These two strangers -they were brothers, she knew that now- had given her another opportunity to work her magic...quite literally. She glided soundlessly towards the bickering men and stopped right before them, the long skirt of her pale, transparent dress disappearing through the solid wood of the bureau.

"I thought we saw see eye to eye on this now!"

"Dean-"

"Seriously, after what you went through back in Broward it seems you could understand perfectly what-"

"Dean!"

"What?!"

Dean realized that Sam had stopped looking at him and was focusing on something else entirely. He followed Sam's gaze and finally stopped on where it lay. The old lady's spirit smiled down at him.

"Crap."

Dean breathed out in a frustrated breath, his head thumping lightly as it fell back against the wall. The spirit's smiled widened and she lifted her arms at her sides, palms facing up. She closed her eyes and began mumbling something under her breath. Simultaneously fueled by the strong desire to not figure out what the old woman was doing, both Winchesters again began violently fighting to free themselves from the dresser. The woman's spirit reached a ghostly hand towards each of them. Both Sam and Dean froze and pushed back against the wall as if willing themselves to melt through the drywall and escape the deathly touch.

"Dean?" Sam croaked, the name a desperate question.

"I don't know!" Dean ground out as he turned his head to avoid the cold fingers reaching towards him.

The spirit's hands finally rested, one on each Winchester's head. A shiver ran threw Dean, most definitely caused by the icy touch of the spirit, but other than that he felt no other sensation caused by the hand. The spirit closed her eyes and began the mumbled words again. Her voice rose after a minute and the language she spoke turned into English.

_"Love and hate, thick and thin, the essence of thy self remains within. What life has revealed, what wrong has been bidden, the secrets of oneself remains still hidden..."_

Sam's eyebrows dipped in a classic "WTF?" look and he turned his head to aim the inquisitive gaze towards Dean. Dean looked back and flicked his eyebrows up in a signal of mutual confusion.

_"...This evening I shall grant the gift of new sight, which shall be revealed upon the dying of night. To know how he loves, to learn why he cries, one must look into his very own eyes."_

The witch broke her touch on Sam and Dean and she swung her hands together in a echoing clap, disappearing immediately in a soft _poof _of sound. The dresser pinning her victims, or students rather, for she sought to teach them both something, relinquished its hold, granting them freedom. Both brothers immediately shoved the hefty piece of furniture away and sat, blinking in confusion. Dean eyes darted around quickly and he sat up straight. He looked over at Sam, green eyes wide.

"You feel weird?"

Sam shrugged and shook his head. "No. You?"

"No." Dean agreed. "Then what the hell did that crazy broad just do?"

"I have no idea." Sam pushed himself onto his knees then feet. Dean followed suit and brushed off the dust from backside of his jeans.

"What was that mumbo-jumbo riddle-crap that she was saying? Felt like I was in a bad Joel Shumaker movie."

"Don't know. Maybe she was just trying to scare us."

"Yeah maybe...But either way I say we file this spirit under the "Psycho Bitch" category and go back to the motel."

Sam blew out a breath and nodded. "Yeah. Well, there's no reports that she's hurt anybody so far, just scared a few teens. Maybe we should just leave this one be."

Both brothers picked up their fallen shotguns and headed back out to the Impala.The ride back was quiet as both occupants of the car felt a sudden tiredness brought on by their confusing night. Upon reaching the hotel, Sam and Dean did little more than go to their beds and fall right to sleep.

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A draft of cold air caused Dean to shiver slightly and wake slowly from the deep pull of sleep. He opened his eyes and blinked sleepily. The wall he was facing gradually came into focus. _"Hmm, that's odd. Thought I called dibs on the bed by the door."_ Dean squinted as he begin to realize that he felt a little weird. He shifted to turn over when he realized what had woken him up. His feet were uncovered and hanging halfway off the end of the bed. Dean propped himself up on his elbows and regarded his feet with a puzzled look. _"Jeez, can't this crummy motel at least afford beds big enough to accommodate their guests?" _He grumbled out a sighed and figured since he was awake, he might as well wake Sam so they could perhaps get a head start on moving on to another hunt.

"Sam?"

Dean cleared his throat when his voice didn't quite come out right.

"Sam?" He tried again, but the same voice came out. It was the voice of...Dean's favored look of confusion since he had woken up crossed his face again. _"What the hell? Why do I sound like..." _Something wasn't right. Dean threw the covers off of himself and got out of bed. He moved over to Sam's bed to inform him that something was up, but stopped short. Dean's eyes went wide and he stumbled backwards and ran into the bathroom. He violently threw on the light and rushed to the mirror. Dean froze as he stared at the reflection looking back at him. He didn't know how long he'd been staring in shock, eyes wide enough to put saucers to shame and mouth agape like a thirsty fish, when he heard movement in the room.

"Dean?"

Dean didn't respond.

"Dude, I think I might be coming down with something, my voice-"

Dean turned slowly as he heard his brother's voice stop short and he stared fully at him. A shared look of complete shock and total silence passed between the two brothers for a good four and a half minutes.

"Dean...you're..."

"Oh really?! I hadn't noticed!" Dean said, voice hard with utter confusion.

Sam shuffled numbly over to where Dean stood in front of the mirror and looked into it himself. He went on to look from his reflection to his brother's reflection to his own again. Except when he looked back at his own reflection he saw short, brown hair, full lips parted in shock, and fierce green eyes.

"Holy crap." Sam breathed quietly, Dean's voice falling from his mouth.

_...Dun dun dun dun dun duuuuuuuuh..._

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_**NOTICE: **__If you have anything you'd like to see in this story, I'm open to requests and I'll use the good ones in future chapters._

_So, what do ya think? Good? Bad? Ugly? Let me know._

_I'm DYING for Supernatural to do a body-switching episode, but I don't think it will ever happen(Wah), so I decided to take matters into my own hands. I'm not sure if anyone has done this yet. If they have, I haven't come across it. _

_I'm dying to hear what ya'll think; )_

_Reviews are writing in pop culture references...and I'm Sara Gamble._

_o-.-o-Lil-o-.-o_


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes**

_Okie dokie artichokies, got a pretty good turn out with chapter 1 (Gracias amigo(a)s) so here's chapter two. _

_Like I said, I'm gonna try to address some of the issues and debates thrown about across the fandom, so if I miss any...let me know._

_I hope ya'll find it as enjoyable as the first. I can just tell this story is gonna be a joy to write;)_

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_"Why are you inside, kid?"_

_"Cause I've got an idiot for a brother."_

_"That'll do it."_

_oo-.-oo_

**Chapter 2**

"What the hell is going on?!"

"You think I know?!" Sam growled back in his brother's voice.

"Aww man! Why do I have to get stuck looking like_ you_?" The whiny tone that Dean had always made fun of Sam for came from his lips.

"Dean can we be serious for a second please?"

Dean laughed Sam's jingley, hysterical laugh. "I _am _being serious! What if I'm stuck like this?"

"Well I'm not too thrilled about it either, Dean. I'm...I'm _short_!"

"For the last time, 6'1''is NOT. SHORT!"

Dean stopped and looked around for a moment. He made an exaggerated, slow circle as his eyes moved about the room and a smirk turned up his lips. "Even though though it is kinda cool up here-"

"Dean-"

"Wow, is this really how you feel all the time?"

"Dean!"

Dean found it incredibly weird to hear his own voice say his name, but found it even weirder that he was still be able to decipher the frustrated tone that Sam often used with him.

"Ok, ok. Well, what the hell could-" Dean remembered the events of the previous night and he rolled his eyes. "Aw, son of a bitch! Again, FREAKIN' witches!"

Sam's shoulder slumped and he breathed out a frustrated sigh. "Of course. _'One must look into his very own eyes.' _The riddle makes sense now."

Dean smirked and clapped a hand on Sam's shoulder. "Now you've got the brains _and _the looks, huh Sammy?"

Sam smiled awkwardly and dropped his gaze. Dean's smirk faded and his eyebrows dipped quizzically.

"What's wrong?"

Sam shifted from foot to foot and shook his head. "N-nothing."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Sam, whaaaat?"

Sam's new, green eyes swept around the room and lifted reluctantly to meet Dean's gaze.

"I...I have to..._go_." Sam all but whispered finally.

Dean continued to hold him in a confused gaze for a moment. His face fell quickly and something close to horror passed over it.

"No!" Dean pointed a finger warningly at Sam. "_Hell _no!"

"You think I'm thrilled about it?" Sam challenged loudly, his original sheepishness lost to frustration.

Dean paced about. "No. NO! Just...no! I don't want you..." He made low, pointless, sweeping motions with his hands. "...With my." More useless gestures and Dean growled out a disgusted sound.

"Alright, what about when_ you_ have to go?" Sam asked defensively, his hands moving to prop on his hips.

"I won't." Dean replied confidently, lifting his chin and squaring his shoulders.

"You won't?" Sam deadpanned.

"I won't drink anything."

"Oh yeah, that sounds healthy." Sam's face scrunched in discomfort. "Gah, I'm serious man. I _really _have to go."

Dean fidgeted about, making quiet sounds of protest for a few moments before finally throwing his hands up in the air.

"Fine! But you can't look."

"As if I'd want to."

"Good!"

"Yeah '_good_'!" With that, Sam stomped off back to the bathroom and slammed the door. Dean paced about the room, feeling oddly unstable on his little brother's freakishly long legs. A muffled, yet clearly frustrated stream of curses filtered through the bathroom door followed by the slam of plastic against porcelain. Dean scratched at the right side of his face when something tickled his cheek. He continued to pace and made a grumbling sound when the the feathery feeling continued and was joined by a twin feeling on the left side as well. Dean growled and scratched again, this time catching a messy bunch of wayward bangs as the culprit.

"Oh come on." He mumbled. "How can you concentrate with these damn things hanging in your face all day?" Dean yelled at the closed bathroom door.

"What?!" Came the annoyed reply.

"I said I feel like your chick-hair is attacking me!"

The sound of the toilet flushing then running water came through the door before it was thrown open and Sam walked back out into the room. He shot a defensive glare at Dean.

"It's not _that _bad."

"Oh really?" Dean blew a breath out of the side of his mouth and huffed the bangs off of his face. "Cause I have to-" Huff. "Do-" Huff. "This-" Huff. "All the freakin' time."

"Dean I think we have more pressing issues here other than my hair."

"Says you. I've been trying to get you to cut this mop for years. Now that I can actually _make _you, I might just take a little trip to the barber."

Sam's eyes flashed Dean's fierce green. "You do that and I'll shave your head and dump the hair all over the inside of the Impala."

Dean stepped up face to face with Sam. "You wouldn't _dare_." He ground out menacingly.

Sam gave his shoulders a push. "Maybe I _would_."

"I think you could use a nice mowhawk, what d'ya think, Sammy?" Dean gave him a push back.

"You-!" Sam tackled Dean back and they fell with a squeak on the bed, landing in a tangle of wresting arms and incoherent curses. The regressed Winchesters rolled about and finally tumbled off the side of the bed. Dean flipped Sam over and pinned him, chuckling when Sam failed to counteract or even move much from his hold.

"Ha HA. Who's got the height factor on their side now, _little brother_?"

Sam growled and grabbed Dean's right shoulder, squeezing his hand tightly around it. Dean yelped as pain flared through his arm and he rolled off, clutching the throbbing shoulder with his left hand. Sam pushed himself to his feet and looked victoriously down at Dean, breathing hard.

"What the hell, man?" Dean panted, looking accusatively up at Sam. "That hurt!"

"I know. It's been bothering me for days."

Dean's face scrunched up in shocked disgust. "Jeez."

Sam rolled his eyes lightly. "I'm sorry I-" He huffed out a sigh and walked over to where Dean lay. "That wasn't fair, but-" His shoulders drooped and he leaned over to grasp under Dean's uninjured arm and hauled him to his feet.

"I'm sorry, ok? I'm just...Gah, this is _weird_, man."

Dean shook his head, allowing Sam to steer him back to sit down on the bed they'd just wrestled off of. "Yeah I know, but ya don't see me jamming my finger in that bullet-hole in my-er..._your_ shoulder."

Sam rotated his left shoulder, wincing at the dull ache of pain. He pulled back the collar of his white t-shirt and looked down at the healing wound. He'd stitched it up for Dean himself after their battle with the demons at the Monument, Colorado precinct. He dropped the shirt and threw a sideways glance at Dean.

"M'sorry." Sam mumbled, sounding ashamed.

Dean's face softened and he nodded. "It's ok."

He gave the aching shoulder one last rub and dropped his hand. He eyed Sam's down-turned face and he gave his shoulder a little nudge with his own. "Hey..." Sam lifted his head and looked at him. "Ya'll right?"

Sam shrugged and nodded at the same time. He spread the fingers on his hands out before him as if studying them. He flexed them a few times and rubbed at the silver band on the right ring finger. Sam breathed out a laugh.

"This feels weird. How do you wear it all the time?"

Dean folded his lips down and shrugged. "I guess the same way how you can stand your hair stabbing at your eyes twenty-four seven."

"Dean..."

"Alright, alright...Let's just uh...get some breakfast and chill out. Ya hungry?"

Sam nodded, lifting the corner of his mouth in a look of sheepishness that looked unnatural on Dean's features.

"I'm _starving_. When's the last time you ate?"

"I don't know. When's the last time you'd gone to the bathroom?" Sam retorted quietly. Dean held up a hand defensively.

"Ok, we're going in circles here. Let's just go out. At least in public _someone _will stop us from killing each other."

_...Dun dun dun dun dun duuuuuuuh..._

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_There's chappy two. Hope ya'll liked it:D Ok and __**attention fans of Sam's hair**__? Don't jump on me, ok? I actually like his hair, I'm just trying to use actual issues that I've seen talked about on Supernatural boards and whatnot._

_**!ANNOUNCEMENT!**_

_I'm going out of the country next week for a whole month. I cannot guarantee that I'll have the third chapter posted before I leave (I'm still working on it) but IF IF IF I can, I'll write when I'm on vacation._

_But I'll give ya a little preview: -Puts on announcer voice- Next time on Wacky Wednesday, the boys head out into public. Will Dean's irresistible charms still work in Sam's body?...let's see what happens; )_

_Reviews are like a Pig 'N A Poke...and I'm Dean._

_o-.-Lil-.-o_


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes**

_I apologize for the late update. I was NOT able to write anything on my "vacation" (Which was ANYTHING but), and the last month has been...well...sheer and utter hell and I'm having a bit of trouble...in general. So I hope you guys can forgive me for the late update. I hope you will find it worth the wait at least._

_Let me know._

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_"Well...aren't you a fussy one."_

_"He is."_

_o-.-o-.-o_

**Chapter 3**

Twenty minutes later, Sam walked out of the hotel room wearing his favorite blue, white-striped shirt and khaki jacket, both of which hugged his brother's muscular shoulders a little more tightly than they did on his own body; the cuffs of the sleeves almost covered the tips of his fingers. Dean followed soon after, grumbling about how his favorite red shirt didn't feel right and how his signature leather jacket didn't look right on Sam's "Sasquatchy build." He again petulantly refused Sam's suggestion that he wear one of his jackets instead and stomped over to the driver's side. Dean's complaints continued when he had to readjust the seat and move it further away from the gas pedals. He warned the endangerment of Sam's life if he tried to crack another short remark.

"Jokes on you. _You're _the 'short one' now, Sammy." Dean mumbled as he started up the Impala.

"I have to admit, it's nice actually having leg room." Sam said, moving his legs freely about in the space beneath the dash as if to test the accuracy of his remark.

The ride into the small town was completely quiet. Even Dean didn't feel like having the usual distraction of Bad Company or Metallica. Dean chose a small diner nestled in the heart of the town. Even when wearing his brother's appearance, Dean couldn't resist the call of pie when it beckoned him from the diner's neon sign.

"Oh God, you're gonna get me fat aren't you?" Sam whined after following his brother's gaze to the pie-shaped neon light. Dean all but snorted as he chose a parking place and cut the engine.

"Relax. You could use some meat on the bones." Dean opened the door and shot a smirk at Sam. "Gotta learn the difference between rabbit food and fine dining, Sammy."

Sam glared for a moment as Dean got out of the car then did the same himself.

"And you gotta learn what a coronary embolism is." Sam mumbled. A cow bell clanged dully as they walked in the diner and they were immediately assaulted with the distinct drone of bad country music. Sam followed as Dean spotted and headed towards a booth by a window.

"That jacket makes me look like a serial killer." Sam pointed out, realizing for the first time how shady Dean's leather jacket look on his body. Dean made a face at Sam as they slid into opposite sides of the table. A young, red-headed waitress, obviously bored from the looks of the almost empty diner and eager to take a table, walked up and handed out menus before Sam and Dean could sit down all the way. Her big, brown eyes flicked between the few brothers a few times and her eyebrows raised minutely in a genuinely impressed look.

"Morning. What can I get you fellas?" She said, immediately blushing when Dean leaned forward and smiled appreciatively at her.

"Coffee, please uh..." Dean dropped his eyes to the girl's name tag. "...Lydia."

Lydia held back a giggle and made herself busy scribbling down the ever-so complex order of 'coffee.'

"You doing alright today, sir?" She asked shyly, looking slowly back up at Dean. Dean allowed a slow smile to quirk up the corners of his mouth and he teased his lower lip with his teeth.

"I get the feeling it's gonna be a good day."

The waitress giggled and pulled her eyes away to look over at Sam.

"Coffee for you too, hon?"

Sam was staring at his brother with an odd expression of blank disgust. Dean raised his eyebrows expectantly and nodded his head towards the waitress, urging Sam to answer.

"Yes." Sam said finally, still staring at his brother. The waitress scribbled on her notepad and gave Sam an appraising look.

"Good deal. Be back in a few when you're ready to order."

Sam continued to stare at Dean as Dean continued to stare after Lydia. Dean smiled goofily and looked back to Sam, his expression instantly turning inquisitive.

"What?" Dean asked, genuinely stumped.

Sam looked incredulous, horrified, and, baffled at the same time.

"Dude..." He said finally. "That was THE creepiest damn thing I've ever seen in my entire life."

Dean's confusion melted away and he grinned proudly.

"It's aaaaall about the vibe you put out, Sammy. You could have chicks melting at your feet if you wanted to." He clapped Sam on the shoulder. "You have all the equipment, you just need to read the manual."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Yeah well yo-" He stopped short, eyebrows dipping. "Did you-...dude, did you just quote Legally Blonde?"

Dean's grin fell and he dropped his gaze, slowly sliding back in his seat. It was Sam's turn to grin.

"You did! You just quoted the biggest chick flick movie on the face of the earth!"

"No, _no! _You're the one who knew-...I just..." Dean stumbled over possible excuses, eyes darting back and forth in search for a good one. Sam looked on, thoroughly amused that Dean -guns-blazing, Impala-driving, Metallica-listening _Dean- _had seen a movie as girly as Legally Blonde.

"Reese Witherspoon is hot! Okay?" Dean spat out suddenly. "Ya happy now?"

"Deliriously." Sam answered with a laugh.

"Bite me." Dean growled. The waitress walked back up, holding two cups and a pot of coffee, and Dean quickly clamped a hand over Sam's forearm, preventing him from bringing it up to his mouth. Dean's glare melted into a winning smile as he turned his attention up to Lydia. Lydia giggled in earnest this time and filled both cups with steaming hot coffee.

"Do you know what you'd like to order?" She asked, putting down the coffee pot and whipping out her pen and paper again. Dean flipped open the menu, quickly locating the meal with the most meat.

"I'll have the number five with extra bacon and a slice of that homemade blueberry pie." Dean replied, hiding a smirk at Sam's barely concealed groan. Lydia scribbled down the order and furrowed her brow at Dean.

"Pie for breakfast?" She asked. Dean shrugged and closed the menu.

"Gotta live for now and as hard as you can, ya know what I mean?" He held up the menu for Lydia to take and gave her a wink. Lydia's cheeks turned bright crimson and she scratched at something only she could see on the menu.

"I think I do." She said quietly, pulling her eyes back up to Dean. Sam looked between the two a few times, very aware that he just an onlooker of the private little moment they were sharing. Sam rolled his eyes and closed his menu with a snap. He leaned forward and, to Dean's startled horror, put a hand over his.

"Honey you know you shouldn't eat so much greasy food."

Dean's eyes widened in shock as he looked at Sam. It took everything in Sam not to burst out laughing and he passed his smirk off as a concerned smile. He furrowed his eyebrows sympathetically.

"You know how bad of heartburn it gives you. Darn stuff keeps you up all night."

Dean gaped at Sam, his eyes seeming to grow wider with each passing moment. Sam gave his hand a pat and looked up at Lydia, whose blush had completely faded and who now just looked outright embarrassed, confused, and a little disappointed.

"I'll have the garden scramble with no bacon, please." He handed the menu to Lydia. "Yum." Sam grinned enthusiastically as Lydia slowly took the menu from him. She looked between him and Dean a few times before quickly walking away. Sam looked back at Dean and was finally unable to stop the grin he'd been holding back the last few minutes from splitting his face. Dean's face was frozen in an expression of utter shock, his mouth slightly agape and his eyes staring wide enough at Sam that almost all the white was visible.

"Dude!" Dean hissed quietly, prolonging the word in a whining manner. Sam snorted and allowed himself to be swept up in a fit of quiet laughter. "What the hell, man?" Dean protested. He gave Sam's right arm a hardly-kidding punch, but it only made Sam laugh harder.

"That's for all the junk food you're about to make me eat." Sam said after he'd gotten himself under control, absently rubbing the spot on his arm where Dean had just hit him. Dean crossed his arms petulantly and slouched back in the booth.

"You suck."

"_You _suck." Sam countered with a small laugh. "Seriously though, Dean. You didn't even want me going to the _bathroom. _How do you think I'd feel about you taking my skin out for a...a joy ride. Talk about awkward, man."

Dean's pout lightened up a bit as he seemed to see Sam's point and he mumbled a "Yeah, okay." before sitting up straight in the booth. He flicked Sam's hand after a moment.

"Hey!"

"_That _was for making us look like a couple. People are twisted enough in the head to think it on their own, they don't need your insinuations."

"Nice word usage."

"I'll say it again, bite me."

"Eat healthier, or I just might...and I'll be sure that Lydia hears about it too."

_...To Be Continued..._

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**Notes**

_Okay so I wanted this to be a little bit longer, but I couldn't think of anything else to write, so I hope you guys liked this okay. I_

_'m afraid I have one of a few things: Writer's block, lack of inspiration, or no time to write. All three possibilities suck, but I'm trying my best to finish updates._

_I know some of you guys are probably tired of the gays jokes on the show, but I just couldn't get the look on Dean's face if Sam ever chose to ruin a moment that way out of my head. I had to write it._

_Ok so...yeah._

_o-.-Lil-.-o_


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes**

_Alright, I apologize for the late post, but I've been busier than usual. Which is really no excuse, since I've...*cringes* sort of had this written for awhile? I'm sorry, please don't hate me._

_Alright, this chapter contains content based on a personal experience. I will inform you more about it after you read it._

_I hope ya'll enjoy! Let me know what you think: ) And remember, I'm taking suggestions for future chapters._

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**Chapter 4**

_"I am exhausted just from being angry!"_

_-Stephen Colbert_

_o-.-o-.-o_

Breakfast passed by with few words exchanged between the Winchester brothers. Dean ate quietly, sulking, but he managed to behave himself and not flirt anymore with the waitress. Not that he could if he wanted to, seeing as Lydia was under the impression that he was in an intimate relationship with Sam.

Sam had had to suppress a laugh every time Lydia threw he and Dean a puzzled look, but he also behaved himself and decided not to poke the proverbial bear. Dean, however, couldn't resist after awhile and he pointedly looked at Sam with every bite of blueberry pie he took, sighing in exaggerated pleasure as he slowly chewed the luscious desert. Sam evened the score again by throwing a broad grin and an ultra-fem finger waggle at Lydia as they exited the restaurant.

"It's kind wrong how good you are at that, dude." Dean mumbled as he plopped down in the driver's seat of the Impala and slammed the door petulantly. Sam chuckled as he slid onto the leather bench.

"I think we might've scarred that poor girl for life."

"We?" Dean scoffed, turning over the engine. "_You_, man. I didn't do one thing to encourage your little charade."

"Trust me, your silence was enough."

"Yeah, well shut up."

Sam looked over at Dean. His brother was hunched forward over the wheel a bit, scowling out through the windshield as he pulled back onto the main road. Sam couldn't help but smile. Regardless of how incredibly bizarre the circumstances were, this was the most light-hearted he and Dean had been since Christmas. But, he knew that they couldn't just ride out the rest of Dean's days stuck in each other's skins. Sam knew they had to figure this out soon so he could get back to searching for some way to save his big brother.

"So this witch..." Sam offered the small olive branch to Dean.

"Yeah." Dean sighed heavily, accepting it. "Twisted old broad. What was the gibberish she was saying? Uh..." Dean's brow furrowed and his right hand made searching gestures where it hung over the wheel. "Something about...the spell dying upon night?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah doesn't mean it will be _this _night though."

"Well then I say we head back and finished the job."

"Dean, she made me you and you me last time we tried to salt and burn her bones. Who the hell knows what else she's capable of."

"Then what are we supposed to do? Go up to her and say 'Hey, ya crazy bitch. Can I have my skin back, please'?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "No, I'm just saying we need to try a different approach and go in smart this time."

"Well think faster, Sammy. I'm about ready to stop feeling like a freakin' colt learning to walk every time I stand up; you put clown's feet to shame."

Sam made a _psh _sound and looked out the front window.

"And they smell." Sam's head whipped back towards Dean's barely audible accusation.

"My feet do _not _smell!" He nearly gasped, his brother's voice taking on an unnaturally hight pitch as it hissed out through his lips.

"Do too."

"Do not!"

"Okay then I suppose you just put popcorn scented air-fresheners in your shoes then, hmm?" Dean threw an eyebrow raised look of expectance across the car at Sam when he didn't answer.

"My feet do not smell!" Sam repeated himself finally, obviously at a loss for a more compelling counter-attack.

"Hey Sammy let me ask you something. Can you see the Sphinx?"

Sam's mouth snapped shut as his automatic retort of defense was cut short by Dean's odd inquiry.

"Wha-...what?" Sam stuttered quietly, extremely confused at the bizarre change of subject.

"The Sphinx..." Dean continued casually, as if it were the most normal thing in the world to suddenly be talking about Egyptian architecture. "...I just assumed you could see it, being in denial and all."

Sam's face halted down in understanding and he sagged back against the seat while Dean chuckled happily at his own joke.

"Come _on! _You gotta admit you walked right into that one." Dean reached over and patted Sam on the chest. Sam just mumbled a "Whatever" and looked out his window. They took a left at a stop sign onto a two-lane, two way road leading through town.

"Oh what the hell?" Sam blinked out of his brooding stupor and looked around at Dean's aggravated-sounding question. His eyes immediately caught on what had spurred Dean's annoyance. Two boys, looking to be in their late teens, were walking -no, not walking- _strutting _side-by-side down the middle of the lane. The car in front of Sam and Dean had even had to go clear into the oncoming lane to avoid hitting them. The two teens refused to move over to the shoulder intended for them to walk on as the Impala approached them

A close proximity revealed a cocky smirk on each of the boys' faces as they continued to swagger into oncoming traffic. Dean had to slow the car to a near stop and wait until a red Honda in the other lane passed before continuing around the teens. He leaned on the horn and glared at them as he drove past.

"Get out of the damn road, you jackasses." Dean growled under his breath. He let up on the horn and looked up in the rearview mirror to see the boy on the left flipping him off with a chubby finger. Rage and frustration pent up for what felt like centuries shot through Dean in a fiery rush at the teen's audacity. That was it, he couldn't take it anymore. Dean slammed on the breaks, sure that there were no cars behind him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sam throw his arms out to brace himself against the dashboard when the car jolted to a stop.

"Whoa! Dean, what the hell, man?!"

Dean ignored the wide, startled eyes watching him and yanked the car into reverse. He twisted around to look behind him, draping his right arm across the seat. Tires squealed as he slammed down the accelerator and the Impala shot backwards.

"Dean, what-?" Sam looked around frantically then back at his brother. "What are you doing?!"

"Those yahoos picked the wrong day to piss me off." Dean said, his voice dead calm. Sam saw the slightly psychotic look on Dean's face and he quickly twisted around to look at the pair of boys they were speeding towards. The car was a mere twenty feet from them before the teens actually turned around. Sam saw their smug faces pale and fall. Their eyes widened with terror and Sam was about to yell at Dean to stop before he killed someone (or two someones) when the Impala screeched to a halt. The Chevy's bumper could be no more than a foot from the teens when it had stopped and both boys had jumped back lest they get hit.

Dean shifted the car into park.

"Dean, have you lost your mind? What the hell do you think you're doing?" Sam hissed as Dean ignored him and grabbed one of the fake badges they'd used the previous day and had yet to put back in the glove box. Without a word, Dean threw open the driver's side door with an urgent-sounding squeak and got out of the car. Sam gripped the back of the seat and wrenched himself around to watch Dean stalk towards the terrified teenagers. They scuttled back a few steps as Dean approached. His brother was an intimidating person when he wanted to be, Sam couldn't imagine how much scarier Dean would seem to someone while taking on his own 6'4'' appearance.

Dean walked steadily towards the shrinking teens, biting back the urge to ask them where their former badassery had gone.

"St-stay back!" The one who had flipped Dean off shrieked. "I've got a gun!"

Dean allowed a chuckle to rumble deep in his throat and he stopped not far from the boys.

"In that case, I'd say your list of problems just keeps getting longer." Dean flipped open his fake sheriff's badge and smiled at the teen's suddenly paler faces. "Tell me." Dean said casually as he stowed the badge in his inner jacket pocket. "Does it make you feel important or special to be a monster pain in the ass?"

Both teens shook their heads vigorously.

"N-no, sir."

Dean nodded, crumpling his chin up in a feigned look of interest.

"So I guess it's just always been your dream then to have your picture under the newspaper headline 'Two dumbass teens mowed down by disgruntled citizen'?"

The young boys looked at each other and shared a confused look. The corner of Dean's lips quirked up in an amused smirk. He clasped his hands behind his back and strolled closer to the teens.

"I apologize, gentlemen. I'll speak more slowly so you can understand."

The teens, both short in stature, were forced to crane their necks in order to look up at the giant of a man towering over them. Dean suddenly envied his brother for being blessed with such impressive height. He leaned over a little bit, bringing his face closer to the two boys and making them flinch back.

"Stay. out. of. the street, you stupid, sorry, little, pompous, schmucks." Dean held his gaze steady on them for a few moments to solidify his point...and to scare whatever amount of hell might still remain in teens. Finally both of them nodded. Dean smiled in a sarcastically sweet manner and slowly straightened back up. He back-stepped a few paces before turning to head back to the still-running Impala.

"Oh, and junior..." Dean stopped at the rear of the car and turned back. "It helps to actually _have _a gun on you before you use the threat of using it on someone..."

The teen who had posed the admittedly false warning earlier shuffled uncomfortably and looked down.

"You don't even own one, do you?"

The teen glanced up sheepishly and shook his head a little. Dean made a clicking sound out of the side of his mouth.

"Figured. Well, I wouldn't be throwing the claim around too much, cause a lot of people _do _own guns and you could get yourself shot one day." Dean laughed a little too heartily. "God forbid." Still chuckling, he turned and headed back to the driver's side. Dean ignored Sam's eyes burning a hole into him as he got back into the car and put it into drive. He glanced in the rearview mirror as they drove down the road and saw the teens running, fast, in the opposite direction. Dean turned briefly to watch through the back window and laughed.

Sam finally caught his eye as he pivoted back around.

"What?" Dean implored innocently.

"You can't just terrorize random teens like that, Dean!"

Dean waved him off.

"Eh, shut up. Someone had to kick those little dweebs in the ass."

"But...you..." Sam sputtered. "What if you had run them over?"

Dean's eyes drifted slowly to the side and he remained silent for a moment, seriously pondering the question. Sam raised his eyebrows expectantly.

"Well?" He pushed.

Dean looked back at him with a sly smile. He shrugged his shoulders a little.

"Well then I guess it would've taught them to use the sidewalk."

_To Be Continued..._

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**Notes**

_Alright, so the whole incident with the jerks in the street? Really happened. I was driving with my mom one day and these two pricks would NOT get out of the way! I honked at them while I passed, one of them flipped me off and I became unbeLIEVably enraged. I ranted to my mom all the way home and this idea suddenly came to me and said to her: "Ya know what? I'm gonna let Dean take care of it." So he did: ) Because this is EXACTLY what I wanted to do at the time: wipe the smug smiles off those two guys faces. GAH! *clears throat* I'm not as scary as I sound, I promise._

_Anywho, I hope ya'll enjoyed it. I know we haven't really talked about the witch a whole lot, but while these boys are like this, ya gotta have some fun with them, right?; )_

_Reviews are like jipping Jensen for an Emmy...and I'm the...Emmy...People...Yeah._

_o-.-Lil-.-o_


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